Mister Samurai
by May the rain be damned
Summary: Kamui pays an unexpected visit to his self-declared "prey" with a certain gift in tow. Kamui/Gintoki, explicit slash content, one-shot.


A/N: I've always wanted to write a yaoi cliché: aphrodisiacs! (Sort of.)

Word Count: 2,416

Warnings: Glorious debauchery of the slash nature.

Summary: Kamui pays an unexpected visit to his self-declared "prey" with a certain gift in tow. Kamui x Gintoki. Explicit slash content, one-shot.

"Mister Samurai"

"Mister Samurai, are you awake?" Arms snaked around the dozing silver, curly-haired ronin. Gintoki jerked from his upright sleep at the sound and peered around the room groggily. It didn't take long for him to realize two very obvious things: one, he must've fallen asleep at the desk again and two, it was really late. The room was dark, and the moon did little to illuminate the office space tonight. That's funny, he frowned, Kagura and Shinpachi were at home with Otae. Was it a client, then? A man, definitely - judging from his arms alone (or a female bear wrestler); and that voice, he'd definitely heard it somewhere, it was just something he couldn't place at the moment. The world outside the back of his eyelids seemed so fuzzy and far away, and black still edged at the corners of his mind.

"Oi," he slurred sleepily, giving a lazy glance at the clock on the wall, "do you know what time it is?"

The shadowy figure cocked its head, "I do not know. Please enlighten me."

"It's two in the morning!" Gintoki squawked indignantly and elbowed his way out of the stranger's grasp, "Gin needs his beauty sleep, you know?"

Gintoki stretched deeply and stumbled to the wall behind him to turn the lights on. At the sudden burst of brightness, he growled and massaged his eyes. It had better be an important customer with a lot of money and some incredible emergency. He was fitting to charge double for the job, just for waking him up in the middle of a perfectly decent sleep. "Mr. Customer, right this way…" he mumbled and flopped down on the couch. The stranger followed him to the sofas and gently arranged himself. "How can Odd Jobs help yo – "

A flash of white teeth snapped him out his lethargy. Before the visitor knew it, Gintoki was scrambling behind the couch, studying him. As the man unwrapped his bandages calmly, his pale skin (one of the noticeable features) became increasingly obvious, especially his deep blue eyes and blazing orange hair.

"You!" Gintoki narrowed his eyes, "What do you want here?"

"Oh, you know – thought I would check up on my prey," Kamui toss his braid back with a smile and laughed, "I hear Yoshiwara has been exceptionally calm lately, but I haven't been to Earth in a while. Rumors have it you've been busy."

"We've been around," the samurai grumbled and plopped back onto the couch, "Are you still going on about that prey thing? I'll have you know, I'm not interested in beating Kagura's brother to a pulp. That's her business… Camel? Kamu, is it?"

Kamui chuckled in delight, eyes flashing, "It's Kamui, pleased to meet your acquaintance, Mister Samurai. You talk awfully big for someone so weak, ne? Anyways, I'm not here for that… yet."

"Don't underestimate the power of a natural perm!"

Cautiously, he watched Kamui pull a package out from beneath his cloak and place it on the coffee table. "I brought this for Kagura, but I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you had some. It's a Yato delicacy."

Anything that could be a Yato delicacy had to be human eyeballs, Gintoki paled; probably just human_ balls_. He grew even paler. He wasn't sure what a Yato delicacy was supposed to be, but it couldn't be anything he'd want to eat. What could a delicacy be to a race that could kill in their sleep? (He knew this from experience. It had taken weeks to repair their office last time Kagura had a sleepwalking nightmare.)

The Harusame pirate tore the twine that kept the brown paper package closed to reveal what seemed like a handful of berries. They were the size of olives, dark red and shiny. Much to Gintoki's relief, they were indeed, not eyeballs. Kamui popped one into his mouth and chewed, looking at him expectantly.

"Will he be offended if I refuse? But what if I take one? Will I die if I eat those?" Gintoki stared at the blood-red fruits, "No, I'll definitely die if I eat one of those. But if I refuse them, Kagura's crazy brother will get offended and murder me. The odds are against me – but it's true that if I eat these, I may die an even more painful death…" With great determination, he reached out and took one, rolling it between his fingers. Maybe he was making this overly dramatic. Maybe it was some sort of declaration of friendship. He was lucky Kagura wasn't around, or he would have to deal with more than just some berries. Visibly shuddering, he thought of all the property damage he would have to pay for.

No, Gintoki decided glumly; it wasn't friendship the Yato was seeking. They would definitely cross each other someday. It wasn't a private matter anyhow; Kamui had declared war on Gintoki in no uncertain terms shortly after the death of Hosen.

"It's not poisonous," Kamui smiled, sensing the hesitation, "Poison is underhanded, don't you think?"

"Ha ha… I didn't say that," Gintoki bit into the fruit – it was surprisingly sweet, crunchy with a bit of a sour, tangy aftertaste. It was good. Not as good as a chocolate parfait, of course – but pretty good as far as fruits went.

"How was it?" Kamui asked, looking intensely at the samurai sitting in front of him.

"Why?" Gintoki leered apprehensively at the man. It was poison, wasn't it? He could feel it, the cold claws of death closing in! His life loomed in front of him, pictures from his childhood! He knew it. He knew he would be cruelly assassinated someday, denied the right to be cuddled by his grandchildren! The walls seemed to sag in, the room became dark, the couch sunk beneath his weight, and it became harder to breath -

"Mister Samurai?" Kamui cocked his head, puzzled, "You've been looking at the ceiling for the last five minutes." The Yato clansman laughed. "Was it that good?"

"Well, sort of…" Gintoki rambled, "They're alright, I mean, not really, but they're better than grapes. Or something like that…"

"Ah!" _What?_ Was Kamui offended already? "Your face is completely red," he said thoughtfully. Kamui leaned over to place a ginger hand on his forehead.

Now that the silver-haired samurai thought about it, the room was getting a little warm. He had probably worked himself up into a sweaty mess in his paranoia. "By the way, Camel, what are those?"

"Yato berries," Kamui replied casually, "they're said to be a kind of aphrodisiac; but of course, Yato natives aren't affected by them. Pity, really."

"Oh, ha, I se – they're _what_?" Gintoki began looking around; other than being uncomfortably warm, he didn't appear to be a raging lust monster, "I don't feel anything."

The Yato clansman laughed. "I suppose not. Sometimes they work for a race, sometimes they don't. There won't be a market for Yato berries here once they find out Earthlings aren't affected, che. The Harusame have, of course, tried to alter them." Kamui leaned back, settling himself into the couch. "Don't you think there are more important things that they should be worrying about, ne?"

Gintoki listened to the explanation with progressive sluggishness. His breathing had hitched a bit, but that feverish heat was making him dizzy and his muscles weak. He massaged his temples lightly. Suddenly, images of breathy moans and sticky skin stole his attention. He jerked up from his slumped position and consciously closed his legs. Gintoki swallowed and chanced a look at Kamui, whose attention seemed to be divested in a scar on his ankle.

Make no mistake: Kamui observed everything that was going on, regardless of whether he was paying attention or not. It was an innate Yato instinct that allowed him to move and react so quickly on the battlefield. Not a drop of blood or sweat escaped his notice, and it was with great scrutiny, that he watched the man from the corner of his eye. He was beginning to sweat, a red tint dusted his cheeks, and quite frankly, he looked spooked enough to jump at the drop of a pin. Kamui smiled. Did these berries actually work for Earthlings then?

"Camel, you should go," the object of his observations spoke, "It's late, isn't it? Teenagers need sleep, or they'll become delinquents, right?" If it were anyone else, they wouldn't have noticed that slight quiver in his voice.

Gintoki stood up, swaying a little, and treaded towards the bedroom. Kamui simpered, following him. "What did I say? Get out!" he started, but those arms wrapped around his waist again, one sliding into the open shirt with ease and the other moving lower to rest on Gintoki's stomach. Kamui stroked his skin with a deceptive gentleness. Gintoki shuddered, the intense throbbing pressure in his abdomen only rising. He eyed those slender fingers with a lump in this throat. Kamui's fingertips slid lower and lower until they reached his black pants. A wide smirk developed on his face as he squeezed the hardness he found there. Gintoki made a choking sound and struggled to get out of the pirate's grasp, but to no avail.

"What an interesting reaction," Kamui observed darkly. He absolutely relished Gintoki's effort to stay silent; the man certainly had self-restraint, he would admit that much. "I had no idea Yato berries could do this," he said innocently.

"Oi, this is sexual assault, you Yato bastard," Gintoki's knuckle-white grasp on Kamui's wandering hand tightened. His body thrummed with urge – an ache he couldn't place; it felt different from being aroused… and he couldn't stand it. He was rock hard just from being groped a bit, and his boxers were getting wet from the precome alone. Kamui watched with growing glee as Gintoki twitched and squirmed in his grasp. In raw strength, there was almost no way for the Earthling to strong hand him. He was sure Gintoki knew this too.

"Is it really…" Kamui whispered, breathing warmly into Gintoki's ear, "… if you want it this bad…?" His fingers, which had been teasing playfully at the samurai's waistband, now dipped under until they curled around Gintoki's slick, pulsing erection.

Gintoki groaned sharply. He quickly shoved Kamui away from him, landing unceremoniously in a heap on the floor. "Get out," he growled warningly.

The Yato clansman smiled and his eyes gleamed deep blue in the moonlight, "Oh?" He chuckled, strutting proudly to where the samurai lay, frozen in confusion. "What would you do if I refused?"

Gintoki gritted his teeth and his gaze hardened, but he said nothing. A quick scan of the boy's face only told him what he had suspected before: the bastard was enjoying it. Kamui enjoyed watching Gintoki writhe at his feet. And not in pain, he concluded bitterly.

The Yato advanced on him in the darkness, the light from the living room only illuminated so much of the bedroom, after all. "You need drugs to get laid?" Gintoki spat, "How pathetic."

Kamui ignored the comment and clamored over the weakened samurai, sitting square in his lap. He leaned in so far their noses brushed, "If you're not satisfied with me, why don't you help yourself? I'll just watch, hm?"

His eyes widened briefly at the proposal. The air thickened as a heavy silence descended on them. Gintoki finally blinked, appearing to have made his decision, "Well," he drawled, shifting his knees to hug Kamui, "Napoleon did say, 'If you want a thing done right, do it yourself'… or something like that."

"Ah!" Kamui exclaimed. He watched greedily as the samurai slowly unzipped his trousers, and he drank the sight in as fingertips worked their way around cloth to slide out dripping, hot flesh. It was almost too much, he thought, if he wasn't going to kill Mister Samurai anyways, he might have indulged himself. Gintoki was stroking himself in earnest now, skin moving against skin from base to apex. He hissed involuntarily as he ran his thumb roughly over the slit, come only further lubricating the action. He wouldn't give the Yato bastard the privilege of hearing him moan; it was bad enough that he was imagining Kamui's smug face while he touched himself – his firm hands on Gintoki earlier, the heated grasp on his member – shit. He was going to come thinking about Kagura's brother. His whole body tightened, awaiting the force of orgasm to wash over him; his mind thrummed with lust, at last reaching the pleasurable crescendo – a white hot shiver ran down his back, the ache suddenly becoming borderline painful. Gintoki cracked an eye open to see the Yato bastard seizing him through his boxers by the base of his erection.

"What the – let go," he nearly shrieked. What was going on? Why was everyone out to frustrate him today? He tried to thrust into the tight grasp, but only succeeded in adding to the blinding ache.

"Say please," Kamui smiled, fascinated by the sticky white liquid running down his fingers.

The samurai bristled with arousal, pure goddamned carnal desire rushing through his veins. He had no sly comment or backhanded retort with release so close; Gintoki only gasped and tugged Kamui closer, his eyes half-lidded. "Please," he said huskily, confidently nipping at his earlobe. This must've surprised even Kamui, because he immediately removed his hand to pull Gintoki into a searing kiss. He made a small choking noise in the back of his throat, and his vision went pure white as he arched, coming all over his stomach and Kamui's shirt with a sudden jerk of his hips.

Gintoki stilled, laid panting, crumbling and dripping on the floor. The two sat in silence until Kamui finally broke into laughter, obviously amused. The Yato made a move to stand, wiping his hands on the samurai's discarded yukata.

"What's so funny?" Gintoki rolled over and eyed Kamui wearily, though the paranoia he felt earlier had dissipated completely. Now he was just tired.

"Ah, nothing," he replied, "That was a good show, Mister Samurai. I'll remember to visit again." Kamui brushed past his prone form with a flutter, but stopped mid-step, as though he had forgotten something.

"What now?" Gintoki snapped.

"I forgot to mention, since you seemed so into it… the 'Yato berries' were really just Earth cherries," he said cheerfully and left. Gintoki stared after the shadowy figure, blinking slowly. He buried his head in his arms, his face a furious red.

"That Camel guy… pisses me off."


End file.
